


Welcome Home, Son

by Sensue



Series: Suitcase of Memories [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adoption, Angst, Brotherhood AU, Family, Foster Care, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Medical, Murder-Suicide, Psychic Abilities, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25999660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sensue/pseuds/Sensue
Summary: Caleb Reaves is a twelve-year-old psychic calling out for help. He has been traumatized by the murder-suicide of his parents. His father had been possessed by a demon and his blood is tainted by good ol' yellow-eyes. Dr. Mackland Ames and Pastor Jim answer the call. They save him. Missing scene from Stranded By Williamson Scott (FFN). Brotherhood AU created by Ridley C. James and Tidia. Crossposted on Fanfiction.net.
Relationships: Dr. Mackland Ames / Esme Madrigal
Series: Suitcase of Memories [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1887088
Comments: 5
Kudos: 5





	Welcome Home, Son

_1983 – New York City.  
Dr. Mackland Ames' Apartment._

Dr. Mackland Ames slowly walked over to the guestroom where his charge, for lack of a better term, was now sleeping. He winced slightly as the bedroom door creaked open; he'd been trying to keep quiet as to not wake the traumatized young man.

Quietly, he'd walked over towards the bed and stared down at him. Caleb Reaves was a twelve-year-old boy going on forty and, amazingly, could render him speechless in a way that only his father seemed to be able to. Reaching out, he'd brushed a stray hair away from the pale face, before resting his palm against his forehead for a minute before pulling up the covers that had slipped off.

Thankfully, the young man slept soundly—hopefully, Mackland thought, he would get through the night without any problems. Mac rubbed his chin thoughtful: how had Caleb wormed his way into his home? Into his heart in such a short period of time?

There had been no question in his mind that he would take the boy home with him after he'd helped him off the ground where Daniel Elkins had pinned the boy with his demonic traps.

Caleb had joked, "What took you so long?" He'd coughed out; his breathing ragged as he'd tried to regain his equilibrium. He'd joked back that he'd ran into a cute gift shop attendant and was rewarded with a smile.

Underneath the smile, Mac detected his feelings of surprise and shock. Caleb had obviously thought that no one was going to save him; that no one had worried that much about him to care whether he lived or he died. Caleb had trusted him enough to allow him to sit and talk with him at the hospital, but the young man had been through so much in his short life. Adults and figures of authority had always let him down and, while he trusted the good doctor to read to him, he was still unsure about him keeping his promises. It broke his heart; he wanted Caleb's complete trust but knew that he would have to work to earn it.

He'd helped him sit up, completely mindful of the fact that Caleb was now trembling, adrenaline had run its course, leaving behind a frightened child. He'd blocked Elkins's body with his own as he assisted him onto his feet, leaving the bastard he'd cold-cocked behind.

Slowly, they'd both walked together toward an empty hospital room. He'd helped Caleb lie back onto a bed, before giving him a quick check-up. Efficiently, he'd listened to his heartbeat and his lungs—making sure that the attack hadn't had any lasting _physical_ damage. He promised himself that he would help Caleb get through the emotional and mental issues the attack, and the Reaves family history surrounding it would undoubtedly cause.

Throughout it all, he'd smiled, joked, and tried his best to keep both of them calm. There weren't many times in his life where he'd felt such anger towards someone—but he'd wanted nothing more than to go back and beat Elkins to high hell. Only the man's status within the Brotherhood and Caleb's presence kept him from doing so.

Caleb smiled back, shakily. His trembling eased slightly as he'd listened to the older man's lame attempts of levity. He'd allowed the doctor to listen to his heart and lungs, even though he had already told him that he felt better.

Mac pulled the stethoscope out of his ears, then patted Caleb's chest softly in comfort. He'd moved to stand, "I'm going to see if I can get you moved to a more secure room."

"No." Caleb's shout startled them both. "Please, no. Don't leave."

Mac moved in closer, once again sitting on the edge of the bed. He'd reached out to grasp the young man's hands, shocked as he felt their coolness against the warmth of his skin. "Caleb, it's alright. You're okay. You're safe here." He rubbed their hands together slowly, trying to gain his attention and to share his warmth.

Caleb's face blanched and the trembling from before returning with a vengeance. "Please, Mac. Don't leave me here. Please…you have to help me. I don't want to stay here anymore. Please…" The fear, stress, and the sadness that he was feeling was clear; reducing the teen to tears—sobbing quietly as he begged for help. Mac wrapped his arms around him, rocking him slowly and rubbing his back in small gentle circles.

"Caleb," he whispered, "I promise, I'm going to help you." He waited until Caleb started calming before slowly pulling away. Pulling out an old handkerchief, he gently wiped the boy's face. Caleb's chest heaved under the strain; clearly, Caleb was now waiting for his next move.

Mac stood and started pacing the room. His movements were being followed like a hawk; Caleb's eyes pierced through him in a way he'd never experienced before. From the moment they'd met, they'd formed an instant connection. Caleb was able to psychically call out to him, distance be damned. Perhaps this boy was a kindred spirit? And even now, he felt him pleading for help.

Abruptly, he stopped pacing. A slow smile formed across his lips, startling the pre-teen. A confused expression appeared on his face as he watched the doctor pick up the phone to call someone.

"Martin," Mac started, "Could you please call Judge Baker? Yes, I know that she's probably sleeping at this moment. No, the medical power of attorney is too basic. I want to take Caleb home with me, _tonight_. Perhaps an emergency foster agreement? Until a hearing can be arranged? No, I will not wait! He's coming home with me tonight, so I truly don't care who you have to wake, Martin. Just do it. Call me when everything has been arranged. I'll start the discharge paperwork here. Alright, thank you, Martin. You're truly your weight in gold." The doctor gave a small chuckle as he hung up the phone.

"What was that?" Caleb asked, hope warring with confusion.

"You said that you wanted to get out of here, yes?" He waited for him to nod. "Well, I'm going to take you home with me, tonight. I have a large apartment and I rarely have guests..." He let his voice trail off as he watched the boy absorb the information.

"Did I speak out of turn? Would you rather stay—."

"No." Caleb interrupted, "I just…you'd let me stay with you? For how long?"

Mac licked his lips, then brushed his mustache with his fingers. "Well, for now, I suppose you would stay with me until the judge grants a hearing. A few days or so…"

"Oh," Caleb's eyes closed, shuttering his emotions. "Well, thanks, you know, for taking me in."

Mac stared at the young man, not knowing why he'd suddenly felt as if he'd let him down, somehow. "You're welcome, son." He pointed towards the door, "I'm just going to get the paperwork settled so that we can go."

Caleb waited until the door closed behind him, before allowing the disappointment to show on his face. He wiped angrily at his eyes, "Of course, he wouldn't want to keep you…who the hell would want to? You're a screwed up freak, Reaves. And no one wants to keep a screwed up kid. They never do." He wanted to cry, to just hide under the covers and disappear. He'd done the one thing that he'd promised himself that he wouldn't. He'd started to hope…

A couple of hours later, Dr. Ames led his new foster son towards his car. Pastor James (Jim) Murphy was already behind the wheel and gave the boy a huge smile in welcome. Caleb was quickly settled in the backseat of the car, while Mac road shotgun.

Pastor Jim used the rearview mirror to observe him. "Are you alright, my boy?" The boy was sullen, quiet—staring out the window sadly.

"I'm fine, Pastor Jim. Just tired," Caleb faked a yawn. "Don't worry about me. I promise that I won't be in the way. I'll probably just go to bed and stay out of your hair."

The two men looked at the other trying to decipher his words. Mac turned in his seat to stare at him. "Caleb. You're not 'in our hair'. You're welcome into my home. I want you to feel comfortable…if you need something, just ask. Pastor Jim is going to be staying with us for a few days. His flight to Kentucky—Jim owns a small farm there—it was delayed, so I've invited him to stay with us until that time. But there's plenty of room, you won't even have to share." He'd said the last part with a smile, trying to inflect some excitement in his voice.

Caleb gave a small smile back, forcing it. "It sounds like fun." The words ended up sounding sarcastic.

Mac turned back in his chair, blinking back astonishment. Could he have been wrong about Caleb wanting to stay with him?

"Well, the first thing that I'm planning on doing is making my famous tuna noodle casserole. I don't know about both of you, but I could surely eat a horse right now." Pastor Jim laughed, "Caleb, my boy, there's just something about a home-cooked meal that just brightens up any day. And then, of course, there's dessert. I make a mean homemade pudding if I do say so myself."

Mac smiled, "I've heard about your skill in the kitchen, Jim…but haven't had the pleasure yet." He looked back at Caleb, "I think we're in for a treat, Caleb. Pastor Jim doesn't cook for just anyone."

There was no response from the backseat, just a twelve-year-old boy clutching a gift copy of "The Three Musketeers" and tracing patterns on his deuce card tucked inside. The only memento left of his broken family.

Mackland turned the key to the door with a soft click, trying to be mindful of the neighbors and the late hour. He'd reached out for Caleb, guiding him inside gently with a hand against his back until he could reach the light switch. Light flooded through his home as the three of them entered.

He'd been expecting the boy to look around, perhaps even to explore his new surroundings. Caleb was unpredictable, instead choosing to squint at his feet. Pastor Jim motioned towards the kitchen, asking permission to cook them a meal. "Please, Jim, make yourself at home. You too, Caleb."

Caleb didn't move or speak. Mac took in a breath, moving closer to him. "Caleb? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Mac." He didn't look at him at all.

Mac rubbed his chin, wanting to know why he'd suddenly become so cold…perhaps he _was_ tired. "Do you want to go wash up? The bathroom is right over there. The towels are in the cabinet next to the sink." He indicated towards the left corner of the room. He watched him walk away, confusion and concern were at the forefront of his mind.

"Mackland?" Jim called him over to the kitchen. "Would you mind terribly if you could hand me a casserole dish? I'm almost done here." Mac watched the pastor turn off the stove under a pot of boiled noodles.

Mac walked over to the kitchen island and pulled out a dish from the cabinet, then handed it to Jim. He watched quietly as the man drained the noodles, then combined it with mayonnaise, chopped vegetables, a can of tuna fish, and cream of mushroom soup. He'd mixed the ingredients until it was smooth, then placed his concoction in the pre-heated oven.

"We should have a warm meal in no-time, Mackland." He smiled at the younger man, "You're doing a wonderful job with him…you should know that."

Blinking up at the older man, Mac couldn't help but ask, "Am I? He doesn't seem happy to be here, Jim."

"I think that he needs time, Mackland. Time and stability. Be patient with him; I have a feeling that boy will surprise all of us. He has such remarkable strength for a young man his age." Pastor Jim was incredibly insightful; he hadn't spent too much time with Caleb, yet somehow knew exactly who he was.

Twenty minutes later, Caleb walked back in; wearing the same clothing he'd previously worn. He looked clean now, his hair now dampened after a quick shower, yet he seemed to be almost depressed.

Jim was exuberant, even at such a late hour. "Caleb, my boy, you're just in time. Dinner is served." He motioned both of them to sit at the table, while he served the piping hot casserole. He handed each person a dish before serving himself. "Well? Aren't you going to taste it?" He smiled at Caleb.

Caleb nodded, picked up a fork, and started eating slowly. "It's really good, thanks." The inflection in his voice truly didn't match his words.

Mac settled in, eating the meal that the kind Pastor had made. "Jim, this is delicious. I think we're going to need to invite you over more. I'm afraid my talents lie in other areas, and definitely not in the kitchen. This will have to go in my favorites, as far as casseroles go. I love the mushroom flavor. How about you, Caleb?"

Caleb started looking around the kitchen area, "I don't know…I guess I'm more of a hamburger type of guy."

Jim nodded, "Well, perhaps the next time I visit, the three of us could have ourselves a barbeque."

Mac watched as Caleb's face fell, he dropped the fork and it fell on the floor with a clatter. He started rubbing his face as if he were in pain.

Later, Mac would truly have no recollection of how he got up and stood behind him; the instinct to blame on his immediate reaction. "Caleb?" He put both of his hands on the boy's shoulders, the tension under his hands made the muscles feel as if they were rocks.

"I just have a headache. I'm sorry—," his voice started cracking slightly. He was gasping slightly, his breathing even and harsh. "I didn't want to be any trouble." And he certainly didn't want to listen to the pastor make plans that he wouldn't even be around for.

Pastor Jim sat watching in worry, his eyes meeting the doctor and asking without words if they needed help. Mac nodded once, before returning all of his energy and attention to the young man in front of him.

Jim stood, taking the phone into the other room where Mac assumed he was making a few phone calls, therefore leaving the two alone in the kitchen.

Mac stood behind Caleb's chair, his hands still resting on his shoulders and the back of the chair was pressed against his abdomen. He guessed the cause of the headache but didn't want to assume. "Caleb, where does it hurt? Can you show me?" He pointed to his temples, ear, and forehead. "Caleb, you know that I am a doctor, right? Well, my specialty is the brain, so I know of a few tricks that might help you feel better…if you're willing to trust me?" He spoke softly, not wanting to scare him.

He waited a minute until Caleb nodded. "Okay."

Gently, he placed his hand on Caleb's forehead and pushed his head back until it rested against his chest. "Okay. The first part is really simple," he spoke softly, "you rest your head back and you slowly breathe in, pause, then breathe out through your nose. When your neck is extended, it makes it easier for you to breathe…" Mac coached his breathing for a few minutes until he could do it on his own. The muscles under his hands were still rigid as if he were afraid.

"I'm not going to hurt you, son…I promise." Caleb's hands clenched into fists, but he nodded. He pulled Caleb's hands away from his face, then smoothed the crease that marred his forehead, and stroked his face. Gently, he pressed down using the pads of his thumbs against the tension along his face: under his eyes, his temples, above his ears…where the pain seemed to originate. "Next step. I want you to relax the muscles in your face and jaw." He placed his hands along his jaw, and just slightly pulled down, wanting him to stop clenching his teeth. "But, don't forget to keep breathing…"

He kept this up for another minute, before moving on. "Now, you're going to do the same with your neck." He rubbed the area in question, making small adjustments in Caleb's position until he felt the muscle relax under his touch. "Now, your shoulders. There's no need to put the weight of the world on them. Just relax."

Caleb gave a small laugh at that but followed his instruction after a few minutes of continued coaching. He moved his way down to his arms, wrists, and fingers until they were relaxed. Placing a hand along the boy's chest, he directed him on how to breathe and relax. "Just unclench your abdominal muscles now, and just let all tension go…all the way down to your toes."

It had taken a while, but Caleb was now completely relaxed. In fact, he was nearly asleep. "How's your headache? Feel better?"

"Much better," Caleb breathed. "What is this?" He was curious because it truly helped; his headache was nearly gone.

Mac kneeled down so that he was now eye to eye with him. He patted his knee and smiled up at him. "It's called the Buteyko Breathing Technique. Basically, it relaxes your muscles…the headache you had; it's called a tension headache. One of the causes is stress. When you relax and let go of the stress and tension in your muscles, it elevates the pain."

"Oh. Good to know…" Caleb nodded, blinking heavily.

"Do you want to talk to me? You seem anxious about something."

Caleb yawned, "Maybe later...I'm just really tired now. Could I just—go to bed? Please?"

Mac nodded, "Yes, of course. I'll show you to your room. For now, you can borrow some clothes from me, until we have some free time to go shopping."

"Or until the stores actually open." Caleb cracked a joke.

"Yes. It is very early." He led him to the large guest room. Thankfully, he'd called ahead to his maid and she was kind enough to give it a quick clean. He pointed towards the door down the hall. "That's my room. I'll go get you something to change into. If you need anything, I'll be right down the hall. Don't be afraid to wake me."

He stepped out of the room, leaving Caleb to gaze around his new room. It was one of the largest rooms he'd ever had. And this was the man's 'guest' room. He could only imagine how large his own must be. The room was clean, clearly expensive-looking, despite the bachelor feel of the furniture…but still there was something, a warmth, that made it feel like home.

Dr. Ames returned, slowly knocking on the door to announce his arrival, even though the door wasn't shut. "I always knock. It's polite." He smiled, handing over a pile of clothing. They looked new. Upon study, Caleb realized that some of them still had the tags. "I've never worn them. A few friends give them as gag-gifts, I believe you call them. They aren't my style, but perhaps you'll like them."

Caleb lifted a t-shirt, it was black with the words: Seduced by the Dark Side. He arched an eyebrow as he picked up a pair of black boxer shorts with skulls on them. The boy started laughing, "Yeah, I can't see you in these either. Thanks, Mac."

Mac laughed heartily, "You're very welcome, Caleb. Good night."

With that, he closed the door behind him and let the boy get some needed rest. He stopped for a moment, before reaching the living area to take a calming breath. He was fully composed as he stepped to meet the pastor.

He motioned to the man to have a seat on the couch, then sat across from him. "He seems to be doing better now, Jim."

"Good. I'm glad, Mackland. He seems afraid…"

"Yes, and he won't talk to me. I know that I can help if he'd just let me."

Pastor Jim looked at him knowingly, "Perhaps, that's what he's afraid of."

Mac arched an eyebrow, "That's a bit cryptic, even for you."

Jim laughed, "I have every confidence in you, my friend. You'll figure it out." The man grew serious, "I called Child Protective Services to see if they could help us with Caleb. I talked to a man named Abraham Sullivan. He's Caleb's caseworker. He was incredibly kind and cares deeply for the boy. He's on his way…he wants to help."

"We only know the facts surrounding the Reaves family. The assumptions that Elkins made…weren't justified. The boy isn't a demon, Jim. He's not evil. He's just a boy that has had an incredibly horrific childhood. What the hell was Elkins thinking?"

"Elkins is the Knight. He's incredibly protective of the Brotherhood, but by any means, the man isn't perfect, Mackland. We'll handle Elkins. For now, you need to concentrate on Caleb. The boy—he's an incredibly powerful psychic, but there are many things that he needs to learn. Subtlety, one of them."

Mac grinned, "So that he doesn't stand out like a two-dollar hooker? I agree. He needs to be taught. And he has to be protected."

"And I think that you're the perfect man to do so…you should adopt him."

Mac jerked back in surprise, "What? I'm sorry, will you repeat that?"

Pastor Jim just stared at him, "I said, you should adopt him. You've already taken him into your home. You obviously feel a connection to him, you want to protect him…or I am wrong?"

Mac sat up, pulling himself to the edge of the couch, now animated. "Jim, I don't know the first thing—."

Jim motioned him to stop with his hand, "If that was the case, what was that in the kitchen? Or in the hospital?"

"I was just reacting to the situation. He was upset."

Jim smiled, "And you comforted him…which is what a parent does."

Mac sat back against the cushions, rubbing his face with both hands. "I'm a bachelor, Jim. This isn't the type of place for a child."

"He's not a two-year-old, Mackland. He's nearly a teenager. He needs someone who understands him. And I think you understand him better than anyone."

The man stayed silent. His mind was whirring, overwhelmed by his own emotions.

"Let me just ask you one question, Dr. Ames. In a couple of days, you'll be standing before Judge Baker…and she'll ask you, 'why did you call me in the middle of the night to take the boy home?'"

"He asked me, Jim. He begged me."

"He asked you to take him home? To bring him here?"

"No." Mac swallowed, "He begged me for help. And that was the first thing I thought of. Take him home. Keep him safe."

A soft knock on the door interrupted any further analysis.

Mac stood up and walked to the door. A tall African American man stood by the doorway, looking unsure. "Are you Dr. Ames?"

Immediately, he held out his hand, "I'm Dr. Ames. Please, call me Mac. You must be Mr. Sullivan. Come in."

"Oh, please. Call me Abe." The man walked into the apartment, clearly impressed by the size. They'd walked into the living area, Mac cordially made the introductions. "This is Pastor James Murphy, a family friend. Jim this is Abe Sullivan, Caleb's caseworker."

"Very nice to meet you, Pastor. It was kind of you to call me. I've been worried about Caleb." He looked around the area, "Where is he? Can I speak to him?"

Mac nodded towards the hall, "Caleb's asleep. I've given him one of the guest rooms. You can look in on him if you'd like…though, I would appreciate it if you would let him sleep. He's had a difficult and tiring day."

Abe nodded, following the doctor down the hall. He watched as the man quietly pushed the door open; he was surprised. The surprise must've shown on his face because the doctor stared at him before motioning him to enter.

The caseworker poked his head through the door, looking around at the room. It was large…larger than the room he shared with his wife. The boy was asleep; it made Abe happy to note that he was comfortable and that the night terrors that constantly plagued the boy weren't apparent tonight.

The doctor walked in behind him, and he watched as the man gently checked his forehead for a fever, then pulled up the covers to make sure he was warm enough. It was—fatherly. And what was most interesting, Abe thought, was that Dr. Ames wasn't even aware that he'd done it.

Mac led him out, gently closing the door behind him, and led him back out to the living area where Pastor Jim sat. "Please, have a seat. Would you like something to drink?"

"No, thank you. Please just join us. Don't worry about the formalities; after all, it's almost three in the morning."

Pastor Jim laughed, "Truly, thank you for coming so quickly."

Sullivan relaxed on the couch, "It's not a problem at all, Pastor. I want to be here. So, how has he been with you, Dr. Ames—Mac?"

Mac sat back, "I'm not quite sure, I don't really have any frame of reference. I'm not very experienced with children."

Abe shared a look with Pastor Jim as if to say, 'are you kidding me?' "Well, in my opinion, Caleb is doing exceptionally well under your care."

"Really?" Mac truly looked confused, he shot a look at Jim; trying to figure out if the man had been told to say that. "How do you know? He's just sleeping."

Abe laughed tiredly, "That's how I know. Caleb has a history of having severe night terrors, almost to the point of insomnia. Many nights, he just won't sleep for fear of having nightmares about the death of his parents. The fact that he's sleeping soundly on his first night in a new place, especially since the last few days have been—traumatic for him—well, it's incredible. How did you manage that?"

Mac and Jim looked at each other in shock, "Well, I had no idea about the nightmares. He was upset, so I talked him through a relaxation technique that I use to help some of my clients. It seemed to help him."

"No drugs?"

"No, none at all. Just breathing and relaxing muscles. I don't believe in over-medicating children. Can I ask you a question? You seemed surprised that he was sleeping prior to me opening the door."

"No, I was surprised that the door wasn't locked and bolted from the inside. Caleb doesn't trust easily; I've never been able to just walk into his bedroom before—he always locks the door. But he left the door open to you…"

"Caleb has never done that before?"

"I've been Caleb's caseworker since his grandmother's death and I can safely say this is the first time that I've seen him take to someone. This is the first time that he hasn't tried to run away. Dr. Ames—Mac, I have to ask this," Abe sat up, pulled himself closer to the doctor, "what are your plans concerning Caleb?"

Mac took in a deep breath, "I don't know yet." He rubbed his jaw, sitting quietly for a few minutes, thoughtful. "Do you know what will happen to him?"

"Well, if you are not involved in his case, I would have to say, there is a serious possibility that he would be placed in a juvenile facility; and if he keeps up the rebellion against police officers, members of the court—he'll most likely end up in prison. The other possibility is that he'll commit suicide."

Mac's eyes closed tightly, wanting to block out the man's words. "God, help that boy…" he heard Pastor Jim pray. "Suicide?"

"I want to be completely honest with you, Dr. Ames. Caleb was put in the hospital because he tried to commit suicide. He grabbed a police officer's gun and put it to his head; if I hadn't grabbed him when I did…" He let the rest of the sentence trail. "Caleb's a good kid. He's just—he didn't deserve anything that's happened to him. He thinks that the deaths of his parents, his grandmother, and now his foster parents are his fault."

"I know that," Mac inserted. "But it's not his fault. He just needs help."

"I agree, doctor. Unfortunately, and again, I'll be honest with you, the system that's in place—it won't help him. There are so many kids out there without homes that the ones who truly need help; they're overlooked. And a kid like Caleb—one that doesn't respect authority and goes out of his way to make trouble. It doesn't bode well for him. The judge is just about had it with him—."

"So, you're saying, that if I do nothing—he won't have a future."

"I wish that I could lie to you, Dr. Ames. I wish that I could tell you that he'll be fine. But he won't be. You're the only one who's ever gotten through to that boy…If you turn him away, I think he'll self-destruct. _No_ , I _know_ he will."

Mac looked into the man's eyes; there was no lie in them. He wasn't just saying things to make him feel guilty; if he didn't help Caleb, no one else would. "Why me? Why does he trust me?"

Abe smiled at him, "I wish I knew why. If I had the ability to figure that out, perhaps I'd be able to help more children. But he does trust you, and he obviously feels safe here. I watched you with him, while he slept—he's gotten to you, hasn't he?"

Nodding, Mac agreed. "Yes, he's definitely gotten to me. I just don't know what to do about it. It's a life-changing decision."

Abe had always been a straight forward type of man. It was required, especially in his line of work. "Yes, it is. But let me just ask this: Would you be able to live with yourself if you said no? If you don't want him here, I'm begging you to just let me take him _tonight_. I promise that I'll do my best to get the judge to give him another chance with a foster family. But please—don't lead the kid along in letting him think you want him. It'll only make things worse."

"I'm not leading him along, Mr. Sullivan. I just want what's best for him." Mac argued.

"What if you're what is best for him, Mackland?" Pastor Jim inserted. "That's the point that Mr. Sullivan is trying to make. The point I was trying to make."

The man sat silently for only a few seconds, the decision finally made in his mind. "Then I guess I'm going to have to get used to being a father."

Abe smiled, "Dr. Ames, I truly don't think it'll be as hard as you imagine. In my mind, you're already an amazing father. And I think the pastor would agree."

"I do," Pastor Jim stated, "I just think that Mackland could use a parental pep-talk every now and then."

"So, it's been decided, then? You'll take on Caleb permanently?" Abe asked, wanting verification.

"Yes, as long as there are no objections. I don't want to pressure Caleb into staying if he doesn't want to…" Mac stared at the caseworker, who was shaking his head.

"Somehow, I don't think that will be an issue." Mac finally noticed him staring into the corner of the room.

He turned his head to see Caleb standing there, his eyes wide at the scene. The boy looked a little frightened. "What's going on? Why is Abe here?"

Mac stood, motioning for the boy to come over. "Come sit beside me, Caleb. Jim and I called Abe to discuss a few things."

"What things?" The boy was unsure; his eyes kept looking for an escape route.

Mac noticed and slowly walked over to him. Gently, he gave the boy a hug and wrapped his arm around his thin shoulders, pulling him over to the couch. "We were talking about you, and your future."

Caleb pulled away abruptly, "It's my life!"

Abe started to stand when Pastor Jim shook his head; it wouldn't do to gang up on the boy. "Caleb," Mac was quiet, "I know that it's your life. It's why I want you to sit beside us and tell us what you want."

The boy blinked up at him as if trying to decide if he was being tricked. "What I want? You care about what I want?"

Jim smiled sadly, "Of course we care about what you want, my boy. We want you to be happy."

Caleb relaxed slightly and agreed to sit. "So what were you talking about?"

"Well, we were trying to figure out how you'd feel if I adopted you?"

His mouth flew open, and his hands started shaking. "What?"

"Caleb?" Mac was scared; this was not the reaction he'd hoped he'd get.

"Are you fucking with me?" His breathing was ragged—nearly hyperventilating. "You're being fucking serious?"

Abe quickly reached Caleb's side. "Kid, listen. If this is something you don't want, I can try to talk the judge into giving you another chance—."

Caleb reached out a shaking hand to touch Mac's face. "I'm not dreaming?" Tears were trailing down his face. "You want me?"

Mac finally understood. "No, you're not dreaming, son. Yes, I want you. I want you here with me. That is, if you'll have me?"

"But I'm screwed up?" Caleb looked up at him, not understanding why or how the man would want him in his life. "Everyone dies around me—my parents, my grandmother, even my foster parents."

Mac took the boy's hands in his own. "You're not screwed up, Caleb. You're like me. And their deaths are not your fault, son. If you don't believe anything else that I say, believe that."

"Why me?"

"I don't know. But I know that since the minute I've met you—I can't imagine my life without you in it. So, what do you say? Are you okay with this? Do you want to stay?"

The boy looked at everyone in the room before settling once again on the doctor's face. "I want to stay here with you. Please." Mac nodded, before wrapping the boy in a tight hug.

Abe stood up, a happy smile on his face. "Well, I don't think we should have any problems with the hearing…everyone is in agreement. So, I'll just let you folks have a good night and we'll set up a meeting with Bird in the morning to get all the details settled." Abe patted Caleb's head gently, "You picked a good one, kid. This one's a keeper. Now, you be good for him, huh? Keep out of trouble."

"I will, Abe. I promise." Caleb swore.

"I know you will." Abe waved, before shutting the door behind the new family. Walking over to the elevator, he leaned back against the wall as he waited. In his job, he'd seen so many atrocities and hardships that made him consider wanting to quit and become a botanist.

And then there were days like this—days that made it all worth it.

_Two days later…_

The hearing had gone off without a hitch, much to Judge Maria Baker's surprise.

And now, he had a son.

The thought brought a smile to Dr. Mackland Ames' face that was as bright as his son's.

They'd spent a day together, doing things that they'd both deemed father/son-ish. They'd gone to the park and played basketball together, had an incredibly unhealthy lunch—Mac let the boy get away with it just this once, after all they were celebrating and for the finale, went shopping for his new room.

Caleb was incredibly excited—decorating and buying posters, clothes that were 'cool' enough to go to school in. Mac's credit card had seriously taken a severe hit, but he knew that it was worth it. Just to see the smile on Caleb's face.

They'd brought everything home, then spent the rest of the day pinning up posters, moving furniture, and spending time getting to know each other. After they were done, Mac wrapped his arms around his son's shoulders and stared at the work they'd done together. Caleb was all smiles.

"Welcome home, son." He smiled back.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural: the series or either of the two hot guys in it. Wish I did, especially Jensen Ackles. The Brotherhood AU was developed by Ridley C. James and Tidia. Title from song lyrics: Time After Time.  
> Rating: TV-14
> 
> Chapter Note: Methodology and history is based on current Brotherhood AU stories. I will try to credit sources as I write, but please note that I do not mean any disrespect or want to step on anyone's toes. I just love the stories and wanted to add my own little 'angst-fest' to a few of the stories, plus add some of my own ideas of the character's history. I truly hope you enjoy the stories. Each chapter will be a 'memory' or one-shot of the Brotherhood AU. (At least, I say that now…LOL.)


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